


Beyond The Glass

by FunkyinFishnet



Category: Lucha Underground, Professional Wrestling
Genre: Angst, Multi, Polyamory, Spiritual, Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-10
Updated: 2016-08-10
Packaged: 2018-08-07 23:41:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7734337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FunkyinFishnet/pseuds/FunkyinFishnet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Temple lets Melissa Santos listen. It doesn’t protect her but she prays and listens and tries to understand, especially on days when the tide is rising and she and others need to run between moments.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Beyond The Glass

**Author's Note:**

> Set after season two.

 

 

 

There was someone outside Melissa's locker room. She stilled. She could hear footsteps and annoyed, frustrated conversation. It had been one of those days; when everything had felt even more fraught than usual. Ultima Lucha Dos. So many tremendous matches, so many had drawn blood. Melissa had felt off-balance, unnerved, since the first drop had hit the canvas. Now, once the cameras were off, that feeling was only getting worse, like the tide was rising.

 

Nowhere was truly safe backstage anymore; thanks to Catrina and Dario, their quest for total power and control tainting everything, seeping into the bricks, mortar and sweat. Melissa hid her tattoos for a reason; she leaned on their protection most heavily now. Dario had been arrested; maybe Melissa should have felt safer. She had been questioned; when she hadn’t been able to give the police any information to help their case, she’d been released. Dario had been taken away but he wasn’t gone forever. The feeling Melissa was consumed by, she’d felt before ( ** oh tia y primo, todavia era verde ** ). Only here and now, everything was amplified. And where was Dario’s brother? The tide continued to rise.

 

Surreptitiously, when she'd been granted this room, Melissa had scratched signs on the door's bare wood, on the side that wasn't visible from the corridor. It didn't prevent anyone from entering, that would only attract attention, but it did give her a warning. It wasn't a warning she was receiving now – Catrina and Dario weren't nearby, neither were any of their associates, or anyone else Melissa had set warnings for. So who was it? Today of all days? It couldn’t mean any blessing.

 

Melissa barely had time to settle a hand to her stomach, trying to stave off the tide, and to begin a quick prayer before the door was shoved open and Ivelisse marched in, holding  Angélico's arm in an uncompromising grip. Son of Havoc followed and closed the door firmly as Ivelisse shoved Angélico down into a chair. Havoc checked the room – for what? Other exits? There was only a window which didn't open all the way.

 

Ivelisse was cursing at Angélico in Spanish, using the kind of language that Melissa had always hidden from her parents and had been taught by her aunts. None of the trio that had invaded her room seemed to have noticed her, or they were completely ignoring her, concentrating on more important things, which seemed to be Angélico. Havoc was interjecting in English, matching Ivelisse's Spanish but he had a hand on Angélico's shoulder and Ivelisse wasn't moving out of Angélico's personal space. Angélico was interrupting them in his distinctive South African accent.

 

Melissa was used to watching wrestlers; it was what she did in the Temple when she wasn't announcing. It helped her get a feel for who she was talking about, what kind of tone and intonation to use. And she didn't want to give Dario or whoever held the Temple key for now any reason to replace her or set someone on her like Dario’s terrifying brother. Dario had paid her well but had made no secret of his love of violence or how he’d been prepared to use it as discipline or punishment. She couldn’t believe whoever else would hold the office would be any different (worse, worse, it was going to get worse). The office drew nothing better. Melissa shivered; thinking about the look in Matanza's eyes, how easily he destroyed his opponents. Where was he now?

 

A loud exclamation punctuated by an equally loud hiss of pain from Angélico pulled a grateful Melissa's thoughts away, her heart too-loud in her ears, the tide still rising and her hand straying to her suitcase as though to reassure herself of where she was, the reality of it. Her movement seemed to finally alert the trio of her presence. Ivelisse turned sharply, her fists clenched and her gaze fiery. Havoc's stance matched her and Angélico looked like he'd try to stand only Havoc pushed him firmly back in his seat. He squeezed Angélico’s shoulder.

 

Ivelisse swore again, “You said it was empty!”

 

“ _You_ opened the door, Evie,” Havoc retorted.

 

Ivelisse slammed a fist into his bicep and whirled back towards Melissa, “If you say a word, I swear I'll make it so you can't enter a ring again.”

 

Melissa had seen Ivelisse take on Mils Muertes. She'd seen Ivelisse take on so many men, like she wasn't scared, like it wasn't always an uphill battle. Melissa didn't know Ivelisse, not like she knew Sexy Star, but she knew enough. And she knew she could still feel the tide rising, she seemed to be feeling dizzy now too. She had to swallow before she spoke, **mierda** she could taste blood now.

 

 

“Who would I tell?”

 

Catrina, despite what she’d done to Ivelisse, hadn’t been seen since. Dario was gone – for now, only for now. Melissa’s hand clenched. Ivelisse nodded; her jaw still tight though, her finger lifted like a warning. Havoc said quietly, “We can take 'em.”

 

“I know that,” Ivelisse snapped irritably, then directed a hand towards Angélico in a gesture that looked casual but wasn't. 

 

Take who? The police? Mils Muertes and Catrina? Who were the trio hiding from? Ivelisse's gesture said everything that she and Havoc didn't – that they'd be dragging Angélico with them and as he was injured, he wouldn't be as much help as usual. And he would slow them down. They were like a machine together in the ring, a body with a limb now severed. It was clearly throwing them. Neither Ivelisse nor Havoc mentioned leaving Angélico behind.

 

“Hey, I can fight!” protested Angélico, reading their silence in the same way Melissa had.

 

Ivelisse and Havoc both snorted, Angélico flipped them off but didn't try to get up again. One of his gloved hands was fixed to his injured leg – where were the crutches he’d used earlier when he’d cost Johnny Mundo his match and the Trios Titles? Perhaps the answer to that question was the reason they were running. Thinking about it, listening to them, it made Melissa feel dizzier.

 

Then there were footsteps, following by a sensation like someone was stood behind her. Melissa's heartbeat amplified, a roar filling her ears. Even Ivelisse, Son of Havoc and Angélico fell quiet. That only made Melissa's heart feel even louder.

 

_I hear you. Please._

 

The footsteps passed; they didn't even pause outside her door. The feeling remained though and when Ivelisse went to speak; Melissa raised a hand quickly. Whatever expression Ivelisse saw on her face, it was enough to keep her quiet, though she frowned mutinously. Son of Havoc looked surprised, Angélico looked impressed with a smirk that made Melissa shudder – that kind of look only reminded her of Marty the Moth now. Ivelisse's frown deepened.

 

Finally, Melissa no longer felt the ghost over her shoulder and nodded, letting out a breath as the roar grew quieter. She whispered prayer fragments, wishing the dizziness would pass too and that the tide would settle. Ivelisse glared with dangerous eyes that Melissa had seen her wear plenty of times in the ring.

 

“What the hell was that?”

 

Melissa couldn’t answer, not because Ivelisse wouldn't believe her – the Temple opened everyone's eyes. But some things felt strongly as though they shouldn’t be spoken. Melissa had walked around the Temple walls many times and onto its roof. Because this place, no matter what Dario or Catrina did, it was sacred, and Melissa would show it proper respect. She murmured prayers at every corner and followed teachings she'd learned alongside childhood songs, teachings that had led her to the Temple in the first place. The Temple didn't protect her – Pentagon Jr had still grabbed her, Marty was always too close – but it accepted her and it let her listen. It heard her. She could still taste blood.

 

Havoc had a hand on Angélico's shoulder again. Angélico was sweating; Melissa could see that even under the dim lighting that Dario insisted on for 'cost purposes.' Angélico wasn't well. Havoc and Ivelisse were worried; it was visible in how Ivelisse argued with him in a furious whisper and smacked him in the chest; her hand lingering briefly.

 

Son of Havoc crossed the room, opening the door a crack. He make a signal with his hand which made Ivelisse shake her head but head to his side, leaving Angélico to struggle to his feet alone. Melissa took a step forward but didn't go any further. She could see the tense set of Ivelisse's shoulders and how Havoc's hand was still extended back, ready for signaling. There were so many words hidden there.

 

“We can't stay here all night.”

 

“She's on his payroll.”

 

“So are we. You want to stay here?!”

 

“Guys-.”

 

That was Angélico, immediately shouted down by the other two, “Sit down.”

 

The rising tide feeling surged suddenly and gathered across Melissa’s skin. She couldn’t verbalize it; the roar was getting loud again. She forced herself to finish packing. She swallowed more blood-taste and dizziness and tried to plant her feet firmly.

 

Her case zipped up; she checked the window – no one was outside, not yet. The moon was almost full, silvering everything beyond the glass. The tide was so high but there were moments, heartbeats free, for Melissa to run. This was her last provision. She bowed her head.

 

“Where are you going?” Ivelisse asked as soon as Melissa began moving, tugging her case behind her.

 

“It’s time to leave,” Melissa replied, forcing herself to speak through the tide.

 

She pressed a hand to the door – still no warnings – and opened it. She hoped Ivelisse, Havoc and Angélico would leave too. If they stayed when the tide drew in…

 

She walked quickly down the dark hallway. It was only a few moments before she heard footsteps behind her, hissed words being exchanged. She didn’t look back; she had to focus. They didn’t have long.

 

_Thank you, thank you, thank you…_

 

She would pray fully once she was home, behind locked marked doors. She would call Sexy Star and Sexy would call the Mack, and Melissa would then call Fenix who would call Aerostar and Drago and the chain would continue and stay strong.

 

Melissa had her car keys in one hand, her case in the other. She pushed the outside doors open hard enough to let the trio behind her through as well. She breathed in the cooling air and felt the moonlight on her skin. **Si.** She was almost there.

 

Once she was at her car and had her case in the trunk, she glanced at the others. Angélico was sat astride his motocross bike; Ivelisse had her helmet in one hand and was gesturing with it. It could have been a threat but Angélico was smiling. He bumped fists with Havoc who leaned close to murmur something that made Angélico angle his lean body in clear confident response. Ivelisse watched; the other two looking back, like they wanted more of her gaze.

 

Melissa focused on getting behind the wheel of her car. Ivelisse and Havoc were buckling on helmets, Ivelisse sat on her own bike and Havoc going to sit behind Angélico. Ivelisse drove off first, followed swiftly by Angélico and Havoc, Havoc’s arms wrapped tightly around Angélico’s waist. None of them even looked Melissa’s way.

 

She murmured a prayer for them and turned on the engine, her heartbeat still so fast. She still had moments free to run but not for much longer. She had an apartment to get to and prayers and phone calls to make, at the very least. This wasn’t an ending; for Dario or the Temple ( ** mierda ** ). She drove off in a sudden rush, no lights behind her. All she could taste was blood; the tide was still high. Soon it’d be over her head.

 

_-the end_

 

 


End file.
